Dead Release
by windandwater93
Summary: Paige St. Claire is alone. She is left to defend herself in what used to be Atlanta, Georgia until the end of the world happened & walkers began roaming around. While on a mission to save someone, she runs into a group of people she had no idea existed.


When people hear the word "zombie" they think of all those cheap-ass Hollywood films like Dawn of the Dead and all that crap. They think of dead dudes in fake makeup and torn clothing. They think of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and just laugh it off. I know I did.

Which was why, when the world came to a screeching halt and God basically handed our asses to us, I was running around thinking that there was this Umbrella Corporation and that, out there, somewhere, some zombie-killer was going to emerge from the chaos and save us all from the hell that we were in.

It never happened.

And, that was when reality kicked me square in the jaw.

There were actual dead people roaming around, outside of my apartment, moaning and groaning. Some were people I used to know, some I just happened to run in to on a daily basis. Now, I didn't know anyone.

I was just poor Paige St. Claire, Starbucks cashier. I had no way of defending myself, I had no survival instincts unless you want to count serving people their coffee when they wanted it and having to deal with the consequences of it not being the right order.

The streets were quiet except for the occasional car alarm going off. The hustle and bustle of Atlanta was gone, vanished. There was nothing. And there was no one. Everyone was gone, or dead.

And this is how I find myself at one in the morning, staring at the boarded door of some random stranger's apartment. I knew if I looked through the peek-hole I would've caught a glimpse of around three walkers roaming by. I could hear their sluggish footsteps and their heavy moans. One stopped and started fiddling with the doorknob. She did that a lot around this time.

I wrapped the throw that was on the couch around my shoulders. It smelled heavily of potpourri and Glade candles, obviously a sign that the person who lived here last was a clean freak. Like my sister.

_Shut up, Paige. Just shut the fuck up. _

I brought up my knees and hugged them against me. It had only been a week, but I was the one that woke up in a cold sweat every time I went to sleep, when I actually had the chance to. I was the one that kept on hearing the screams, the ripping of flesh, I was the one that kept seeing the blood all over my clothes and hands…

_Didn't I just tell you to shut the fuck up?_

I buried my face in the wool throw and closed my eyes. Most of the time, I loved to pretend that what was going on was just some fiendish nightmare and I would wake up. Beth would be safe…everyone would be safe…It would just be another day. I wouldn't be huddled up in the corner of some stranger's room, clutching the radio to my ear, praying for someone to respond back to me when all I really heard was static and my own voice.

I heard the groans fading away until they were just gone altogether.

The curly headed brunette remained at the door for another ten minutes before following her friends down the hallway. Another five minutes and she was gone, too.

I slowly got up from the couch and softly let my feet pad over the white shag carpet until I got to the window. I lifted back the curtains and peered outside. Down below, under whatever flickering streetlights there still was, I made out around fifty walkers alone. It was obviously breakfast time for them. Underneath the streetlight directly below me, a male walker in a t-shirt and jeans was pulling the organs out of some small carcass in its hands. A small child with a broken foot limped by him without even so much as a passing glance.

I let the silky drapes fall back into place and I rounded about the couch to where the bow was. Their hunting time was usually my hunting time. Whatever schedule these son-of-a-bitches were on, I was on. That was how it worked.

I picked the bow up and slung the arrow canister over my shoulder, listening to the arrows collide with one another inside.

If I was going to do this, I was going to have to do this right. I couldn't go out there like I had last night. That would've seriously gotten me bitten, or, worse, killed. I couldn't die. Not yet. I had too much stuff to take care of to let luck take care of me.

I remembered, not too long ago, I had heard a man screaming on top of this department building about two blocks from the apartment. At first, I just thought it was some poor soul getting eaten or whatever by a few walkers. But, when I heard it again, I realized it was someone that needed help.

If only I had been able to get to him. Unfortunately, twenty walkers blocked my path and I had been sorely lacking in ammunition. I guess that's why God said let there be sportsman stores.

I sighed as I laced up my worn Converse shoes.

Wonder if he was still there, that guy. Either he was dead, or he wasn't.

I walked over to the door and looked out. Nothing. Not a single thing.

Still…

I took out an arrow and positioned it. I had come too far to start slipping up, now.

I removed the plywood boards I had put up and undid the locks.

Opening up the door was like hanging a damn sign above my head that said WALKERS ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFET. It was that fucking loud.

By the time I slipped through, I slowly made my way down the stairs, arrow still poised until I was out on the street, the morning air already muggy and clinging with moisture.

My eyes caught sight of an elderly woman, moving towards me, her eyes glazed and dried blood on her wrinkled face. Her gray hair was matted and the clumps that still remained clung desperately to the scalp.

I drew back my arrow.

As soon as I let it go, the whoosh of air in my ear and the ping of the string, so began another night in Atlanta.

P.S. TO ALL OF YOU READING: I know this is short. I got so mad when I realized it. I intend on making the next chapter a lot longer and a bit more graphic like the show is. Anyways, thanks for reading. J


End file.
